


Of Motorbikes and McGonagall

by theyshotmyclown



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom, Marauder Era - Fandom, Wolfstar - Fandom
Genre: Fluff, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-11
Updated: 2013-04-11
Packaged: 2017-12-08 04:16:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/756931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theyshotmyclown/pseuds/theyshotmyclown
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Remus does a lot of a eye-rolling, Sirius pushes his luck and Christmas turns McGonagall to their favour.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Motorbikes and McGonagall

December, 1976

The motorcycle is huge and black, and seems to crouch in the courtyard like a territorial feline, waiting to pounce on anyone who dares to get too close. The winter sun glints off its rims, dazzling the little huddle of awe-struck first years that have grouped together a little way off, and Remus thinks that if Sirius wasn't already in line for an end of term detention for the Christmas pudding incident, he bloody well is now.

McGonagall is not impressed. She surveys the motorbike with a curled upper lip and a raised eyebrow. "And what, Mr. Black, is this?" Her voice is weary. Remus can't say he blames her.

Sirius grins widely. "Professor, I'm very glad you asked." He sweeps his arms wide with a flourish, and Remus is sure he sees McGonagall roll her eyes. "This masterpiece of engineering, this beast of the road, this… this exquisite machine is how I am getting home for the holidays."

"Oh, I don't think it is, Black."

The small crowd has started to swell a little. To the huddle of gold and red that make up the excitable Gryffindor first years, Sirius Black is hero material; cocky and rebellious, and somehow still in school, even though he's wracked up more detentions in a term than most of them will ever have. The fact that he's managed to smuggle a monstrous motorbike into the school grounds and fully intends to ride it all the way home only serves to make him all the more brilliant in their eyes. Remus must admit it gives him a certain edge. 

"Professor, there isn't a school rule that says I can't use Muggle vehicles as my transport of choice. I checked."

"Mr Black." McGonagall sighs heavily. "I am afraid you will be taking the train like everyone else."

"Oh but Professor, it's a wonderfully enhanced vehicle, really."

She gives the motorcycle a needling stare. "Enhanced in what way, exactly?"

From the sidelines, Remus groans inwardly and buries his chin further into the depths of his scarf to ward off the winter chill. Now she's asked, Sirius will feel obliged to tell her, and once he's done that there'll be no saving him from the stampeding fans clamouring for his autograph. He'll be ravaged by the overzealous horde of students who think that enchanting motorbikes to fly is evidence of extreme coolness, and Remus will probably be given the job of telling Regulus that his idiot brother has been suffocated in a crowd of hero-worshippers and, if it isn't too much trouble, would his mother mind re-owning him if only to give him a proper burial?

Sirius flashes a dangerous smile. "I mean, Professor, that I have used the excellent array of skills I have picked up during my time at this fine establishment to expand this bike's abilities, and-"

"Get to the point, Black."

"I've, ah, made it fly."

As expected, awe ripples through the crowd. Quite a few students have come to see what the commotion is about by now, and about a third of them are ardent admirers of the rebellious teenager. This is it, Remus decides gloomily; they'll be getting on the train and watching with mournful eyes as Sirius is ripped limb from limb by drooling fifth year girls. Not only does he have a shiny motorbike to prove his masculinity, he has a flying shiny motorbike, which no doubt makes him even more desirable. There is a part of Remus that agrees wholeheartedly, because really, imagine Sirius astride the bike in leather trousers. Remus tells this part of him to be quiet.

Peter sidles through the crowds and tugs on Remus' scarf, grinning around a mouthful of mince pie he's snuck out of the Great Hall. "Reckon she'll deduct points for this?"

"Peter, he's landed an illegally charmed Muggle motorbike in the school grounds and is trying to defend it with only his charming personality."

"Fuck."

Remus nods. "And lest we forget his earlier experiment with the Christmas pudding. I'm sure that does wonders for our House total."

McGonagall looks torn between smiling and scolding, though Remus puts that down to Christmas spirit. "I suppose I needn't point out that this motorcycle is illegal?"

Sirius tries to look solemn. "No Professor."

"And that by rights I should confiscate it on sight?"

There's silence in the courtyard, almost as if this is a scene from a film and the audience is holding its breath in anticipation of what the dashing male lead will do when faced with the threat of losing his pride and glory. McGonagall senses it too, because she gives the crowds a fleeting glare.

"However," That one word rings out through the silent courtyard. Peter pauses mid-chew to give Remus a confused look, and Sirius frowns at McGonagall. She continues, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "What with it being Christmas, I suppose it wouldn't be unlikely for me to get sidetracked by the festivities and raucous revellers and not see this… monstrosity in the school grounds."

Sirius has caught on to what she's saying, and is starting to grin. He catches Remus' eye and winks, as if to say, watch this, Moony. Remus raises an eyebrow and watches. He finds Sirius' brand of stupidity endearing, in an exasperating way.

McGonagall gives him a stern look. "Of course, I won't be distracted for long, and it would have to be somewhere secluded by the time I am paying attention to these sorts of things."

"Of course, Professor."

Remus can't believe it. Sirius Black is getting away with possession of an illegal vehicle because it's Christmas, and McGonagall is passing up the chance to snag him for a detention. Highly immoral, not to mention showing favouritism to one's own House. Probably against school rules in all manner of ways. Remus' rule-abiding conscience sets about making this known to the rest of his brain. The bit of said brain that wants to join the first years in their admiration cheers quietly.

"She can't be serious."

Peter elbows him. "Think of the House Cup, Moony. Don't be so middle-aged about it." He grins. "Bet James'll want to see this. Cracking bike, isn't it?"

Remus is about to point out that it doesn't matter how cracking a bike it is, this is still no way to instill morals in the younger years and show them how to abide by school rules, but Peter has already disappeared into the throng in search of the fourth marauder. Remus is pretty sure James knows all about the bike already, and would bet anything that he even had a hand in getting it into school in the first place. He's often remarked that if they fail their exams, James and Sirius could always make their fortune in the organised crime industry. 

McGonagall starts ushering the onlookers away from the motorbike and back into the castle. When she's finished ("Weasley, please collect your jaw from the ground and get back inside,") there's only the three of them and the bike left. Sirius looks very pleased with himself.

She humphs. "I mean it, Black. If that thing isn't well out of my sight in five minutes I'll suddenly come to my senses and it'll be taken into my custody."

"Yes Professor."

She looks at the bike with something Remus is sure can't be admiration, and then back to the student in front of her. "I suppose it is a very well maintained motorcycle, Black."

He swells with pride and gives her a devilish smile. "Thank you, Professor. Perhaps I could show you how well it flies. I'm sure the castle looks very festive from the air, and it would be a unique way to spend the end of term, not to mention roman-"

"Oh, that won't be necessary, I can assure you."

Sirius grins to himself. Remus raises his eyes to the heavens. McGonagall turns to head back into the castle, casting them a final glance over her shoulder. "Mr. Lupin, I expect you'll be helping Mr. Black hide the motorcycle I can't see?"

"Somebody has to, Professor."

"Very good." She disappears up the front steps, a small smile playing about her lips.

When she's gone, Sirius turns and gives a sweeping bow. "And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how it is done." He says, though it's only him and Remus left in the cold.

Remus sighs, hiding his smile in his scarf. "Very impressive, Sirius." He crosses the cobbles to stand by the bike, hands stuffed deep in his pockets.

"Impressive? I not only avoided detention, but also succeeded in keeping hold of my new creation. Which, by the way, is possibly the best thing I have owned in my entire life, and you should be exceedingly jealous of it." Sirius leans back against the seat, folding his arms to complete the devil-may-care image he's been nurturing. He flicks a stray lock of hair out of his eyes, and smirks at the werewolf, who tries to ignore the lopsided grin aimed his way. "So, you up for that unique and romantic motorbike ride?" He takes in the bundled scarf, pink nose and half-hearted sternness. "Though I'm crushed by McGonagall's rejection, I'm sure your Christmas spirit will do wonders for my poor, bruised heart."

Remus smiles despite himself. "I'm going nowhere on that thing in this weather, I can tell you now. Even if snow and gale-force winds weren't forecast - which I remind you, they are - I'd probably fall to my untimely demise. I've seen you fly a broom; it gives me no confidence in your ability to master a motorcycle."

"Your lack of faith wounds me, Moony. I am a competent and responsible flier."

"Remember those words when you're all gathered around my bedside at St. Mungo's, won't you?"

Sudden footfalls alert them to the hurried return of Peter, James sauntering behind, much too mature to actually run in public now, though he does appear to have acquired a purple paper crown for the purpose of festivity. He gives Sirius a 'well done, mate' smile and skips the last two steps, eyeing the bike appreciatively. "Might've stretched the cloak a little, but it was definitely worth it. Wonderful bit of Muggle engineering, this."

Peter, ever the typical teenage boy, is all over the motorbike. He seems to need most of his self-restraint to stop himself drooling over the damn thing. Sirius sniffs. "So, anyone fancy a ride?" It's addressed to all of them, but he's staring at Remus with a look that seems to question more than just a motorbike jaunt. It's the sort of look that's both boyish and grown up, that's still bright even in the biting cold, and is equal parts lovable and mischievous. Remus decides that if rebellion had a face it would be Sirius Black's, and it would be grinning in that charming-yet-unnerving way that somehow manages to turn Remus' insides to mush. Unfortunately for Remus' insides, it seems to be the one look Sirius has perfected.

"Moony has already agreed to ride pillion at least once, and if he's willing to put his life in my hands, I fully expect both of you to follow suit."

Peter nods enthusiastically, still captivated by the shine on the leather. James adjusts his paper crown while he pretends to think about it. "Sirius, I didn't help you smuggle it in just so I could get on the bloody train at the end of term. Honestly, what do you take me for?"

"I'll be telling you exactly what Mr. Black takes you for, Mr. Potter, when I'm escorting all of you and that motorcycle to the Headmaster's office in precisely two minutes." McGonagall has returned, and is giving all four of them a disapproving look from the top of the steps. "When I will be completely focused on spotting such misdemeanours."

Once again Remus finds himself amazed by Sirius' audacity and ability to weasel out of a detention, especially when Sirius smiles sweetly and gazes up at her with wide, innocent eyes. "Motorcycle, professor? What motorcycle?"

**Author's Note:**

> Moving stuff over from my FF.net account and making some edits. Two year old fic makes me cringe a little. It also gives me a reason to avoid revision so hey ho.


End file.
